Cut off all my yellow locks.

Roz and Viola mostly. We play guitar, viola and violin. A lot of people sing or drum along. Calypso and Shell admire the bodhran; Jilly - the tin whistle and recorder. Mannie used to play a few hymns and she's not the only one here who likes god bothering music. We love the eerie and unsettling early Anglo-Saxon folk that was so perfectly preserved in that living museum of music: the Southern Appalachians as it was early last century. We have a weakness for Irish-Australian transportation ballads. We are curious about gender travesty especially women in mens' dress a cutting off their yellow locks and why polly never seems to learn not to get herself murdered.

Dust on my guitar...

still. And my fingertips are soft.

Never mind. I watched a doco on Morissey. Genius lyricist.

I love him. Still.

Soft fingertips.

"there's dust on my guitar"

Welcome to the Beggar's Opera.

I don't understand sometimes why I couldn't have had my own life. Is it overpopulation - are there so many souls to be born that we just must learn to share bodies to save the planet?

Roz.

Sister Act.

Poor Kate. Maxwell's Silver Hammer is not a begin guitar song.

What a Feis.

Shamefully we still do not have our songs recorded. And we'd best get playing or we'll lose them from our memory.

News: Feis & Ceilidh

My god. What a place. What a culture.

live from my loungeroom

sooon we'll have our music recorded, and online.

that's the plan anyway